


Catnap

by GirlwithCurls98



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Secret Identity, Sleep, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 18:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlwithCurls98/pseuds/GirlwithCurls98
Summary: "How many times had she told Chat that they couldn’t share their true identities, even with each other? To do so would put their loved ones at risk. Could put the other Miraculous holders at risk. So now, it felt deeply unfair. After all, it had been her fault in the first place."A short, sweet, fic about our two favorite heroes.





	Catnap

“D’you think fish believe in aliens?” 

“What?” 

“Fish. Y’know. They get caught, and then let go. So are we like...aliens to fish?” 

 

Ladybug chuckled, adjusting her grip on her partner. “I guess that’s one way to think of it. Go back to sleep mon chaton.” 

Chat Noir shivered and snuggled closer to her, the cool Parisian wind raising goose bumps on his exposed skin. “Thought I was sleepin’.” 

Ladybug rolled her eyes, letting him resettle in her lap where she had him cradled, before turning her gaze to the sky. Paris was beautiful at night. The stars clustered together like they were trying to keep warm, bright enough even to outshine the lights of the city below. She looked back down, marveling at how her partner’s blonde hair seemed to absorb the moonlight, practically glowing in the shadows they had taken refuge in. Much like their home, this boy was beyond beautiful. Adrien Agreste was ethereal. He was, even as he lay bruised and bloodied on the concrete, face sticky with sweat and tears, unaware his sweetest dream had come true.

She was strangely at peace with this. Since the moment Marinette had understood the gravity of her powers, she sought to protect others from them, even from one of the few other people who would understand. After reality had sunk in, after they were safe and she could breathe again- she realized what had happened, and she felt like a hypocrite. How many times had she told Chat that they couldn’t share their true identities, even with each other? To do so would put their loved ones at risk. Could put the other Miraculous holders at risk. So now, it felt deeply unfair, that she discover his identity without him knowing hers, or even that he’d been found out. After all, it had been her fault. Chat Noir was just trying to protect her, and Adrien had paid the price.

* * *

 

For once, it hadn’t been Hawkmoth. The supervillain had been eerily quiet for the past three weeks. Ladybug had insisted that they continue their nightly patrols, deflecting her partner’s attempts to ask her on a date with practiced ease. She had always respected Chat in his persistence. Sure, he was a massive flirt and his puns got worse by the day, but he never pushed her when she refused. Instead, he’d shrug, crack a joke, and try again another day. He’d flash her that stupid, perfect, boyish grin and turn his attention to whatever poor soul Hawkmoth had trapped. 

But that didn’t happen. There was no innocent in the grasp of their enemy, none of Paris’s ordinary citizens having a bad day turn for the worst. Instead, the evil they faced that night was intentional, was human, not manipulated by supernatural forces. A young girl, walking back from art class alone. An older man, who had been watching her for weeks. One who carried a blade where his moral compass should have been. She’d screamed as he yanked her into the alley. Ladybug had never seen her partner so enraged. He was white-hot anger, kicking the creep in the stomach to get the girl away. He caught her, (Darcy, as they would learn later), and turned to leave the alley, promising to get her to safety. The man reached up and latched onto her art bag, the knife clutched in a waiting fist. Chat didn’t hesitate as he pounced, forcing the man back down. The bag tore open, and oil pastels scattered onto the rain soaked pavement. Ladybug  didn’t couldn’t think, simply swept Darcy into her arms and ran. A policeman had heard the commotion, nearly hit them as they rounded the corner into the safety of the street lamps. 

“What happened?” he demanded. 

“She was attacked, by a man with a knife. Chat Noir has him, I have to go help. Can you get her home?” 

The officer nodded, bracing one hand on the girl’s shoulder. Ladybug nodded curtly, before turning on her heel and sprinting back towards the alley. What she found there made her heart stop cold. 

Two figures, crumpled on the ground. Both unconscious. The scattered remains of a blade, destroyed by a Cataclysm attack. Smashed pastels leaving streaks of color across the black asphalt. She rushed over to the smaller of the two and fell to her knees, frantic fingers searching for a pulse. Chat Noir was breathing, but that didn’t stop the cry that escaped Ladybug’s throat. Her beloved cat was bloody, his lip split, a palm shaped bruise blooming on his throat.

“Oh, mon chat doux.” She murmured, brushing his tangled hair out of his eyes. “Vous avez besoin de plus grandes griffes pour correspondre à votre courage.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, taking in the smell of sweat and spearmint toothpaste. That with the steady thrum of his heart beating against his chest loosened the vice around her lungs and let her take the first clear breath since Darcy had screamed. 

A flash of green light caught her attention. His miraculous was blinking. Marinette had to make a choice.

* * *

 

So now she was here. High up on a rooftop, nursing a worried kwami, watching the stars glow in the sky, and trying to figure out what to do. She knew her partner’s identity. Not only that, she knew that her flirtatious, brave, stupid, kind partner was the same boy she had been crushing on for what seemed like an eternity. The boy who she caught when he fell off the Eiffel tower, the boy she’d take a hit for, the boy who believed in her powers even when she didn’t. . . was the same boy she’d stuttered and stumbled over when she spoke to him. The universe, she decided, had a very ironic sense of humor. 

“M’lady?” He slurred, jerking her back to the present. 

“What is it?”

“Are you mad at me?” He sounded so sad, for a moment, she thought he had actually woken up. But no, he was still half-asleep, hand twisting in the fabric of her costume. 

She smiled, one hand combing through his hair, the other tracing soothing patterns on his upper back. “Of course not, mon chaton.” 

The lines in his face deepened as he protested. “But we’re working. Not supposed to be sleepin’.” 

“It’s alright. I’ve got the watch. Nothing wrong with taking a little catnap.” 

Chat Noir made a muffled happy noise, somewhere between a giggle and a contented sigh. He seemed to relax deeper into the pavement.  _ It’s time. _ Marinette decided. 

“Hey kitty. Can I ask you something?” 

“Hmm?” he replied, balancing on the razor’s edge of sleep. 

“What do you say to transform into Chat Noir? Just curious.” 

Adrien’s kwami flitted into her eyeline,  looking concerned, almost panicked, but thankfully her partner continued to talk in his sleep, blissfully unaware. 

“I always say Plagg, claws out!” 

A flash of green light and Adrien was gone. But not really. For now she knew that the boy behind the mask was as ordinary as they came. Making him as extraordinary as she dreamed he would be. 

“I really should start saying please. After all, kwamis don’t get a say in when they’re working. Whadda you think?” 

“I think that’d be nice, Chat Noir. Now go back to sleep.” 

“Thought I was sleepin.” 

“I mean it, kitty.” she said, stubbornly. “You need your rest.” Not for the patrol, not even to recover from his injuries, although those were both very important. Her faithful cat would need his rest, for when he woke, she intended to take off her mask. To trust him, as he unwittingly trusted her. 

**Author's Note:**

> mon chaton- my kitty  
> mon chat dou- my sweet cat  
> Vous avez besoin de plus grandes griffes pour correspondre à votre courage.- If only your claws were as large as your courage. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Also, I know my French is terrible, so please don't give me a hard time. Comments give me life and help me become a better writer!


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